VFW/mu. rm". .3," 'liis' , , '7_ " mun-«AM: 9!? «w, - A .» . 1-. v :34- r was r w;- . n “0.17;. "arms" ;‘.:-y.-..:nrrpfttr~ 'x-‘A'q .' ‘ V "-"x; v Tun PEBILS or TRAVELING.â€"We " {fittest-t at 't-icrn‘eyiandrkw ‘ eniyvofa the perils that adventurous travelers are expos’d toby perusing their books when published, can form buta faint. idea - of the reality of what they generally‘so modestly inditc. Living. stone, passing contzn ally through scenes of. danger, makes no preten- sions to bravery, although he was of necessity the possessor of a large amount of this quality. it is not alone in the hidden regions of Africa . that danger and death meet the cn-l terprising explorer face to face. -, . Australia, which the discovery of gold has widely opened, bears upon its surface wide tracts of wilderness, and unexplored fastness, an entry lnto~which is. almost sure to cost the life of the adventurer. One of the J"Fbi.;».3;. «:9: I’CANno'T CALL HER M01‘Hpit._ BY MRS, SARAH '1'. Demon. ,The marriage rite is over. _ And though I turned aside To keep the guests from seeing The tearsl could not hide. I wreatlicd my face iii smiling And led my little brother ADVERTISER. TERMS :' $1, 59 In Advance. oe ATE 1 .j “ Let Sound Reason weigh more with us t/zan'Popular-~ Opinion}? * AURORA :ND’ RICHOND HILL ADV ï¬x /\J\,/\_W~f‘~/V l v WNMWW~A “A / LE X; SCOTT, Proprietor. , ‘. No. 1g"; V RIC VW\.â€"/ W‘WV‘J To greet my father’s chosenâ€" But 1 could not call her mother. MARCH 1:», reel; ‘ " She is a fair young creature. With a meek and gentle air : With blue eyes soft and loving, 'And silken sunny hair-â€" 1 know'my father gives her i The love he bore another; , . But if she were an angel HMONii) HILL, Franny, vol. III. ~ “Thole No. 120. < . a: . z ‘; pine, asfor you,’ said the SHE rhing to him, ‘ you have been . ‘ ‘ Rather a hempen, cor-.l,’ said I, ‘ McAl what taken aback ; for they had not _ Darnley, ‘for being false to your king’ 1-,; expected to ï¬nd'so numerous an as- ‘iAll is, now in readiness, I believe to go forward with our great and up ON aquAr FitRMs. 1 could not call her mother. To-nightl heard her singing ' A song I used to love. VVhon its sweet notes were uttered _ By her who sings above. Itpaincd my heart to hear it, And my tears I could not smother, «For every word was hallowed By the dear voice of my mother. My father. in the sunshine ' Of‘liappy days-to come. 7 May half forget the shadow That darkened our old home : His heart no more is lonely, But me and little‘ brother Must still be orphan children. God can give us but one mother. They’ve borne my mother’s picture From its accustomed place, And set beside my futlwi’s " A younger, fairer face. They’ve made her dear old chamber The boudoi-r of another, But I will not forget thee. My own, my angel mother. fillihiutiiii. THE llllili AND THE PUBLICAN. BY GEORGE A BANCROFT. .X CHAPTER X.â€"â€".IOVlN3 AND REMOVING. At an early period Darnley sent ï¬fty of his men away, under an ex- perienced captain, to reconnoitre the premises around the ruined mill, and to form an ambuscade and cap ture the conspirators, should they proceed direct towards Edinburgh. The other ï¬fty accompanying Lum- leygwere disposed ofin different por- tions of the mansion ; and when all the necessary arrangements of the night were concluded, the king, Hugh, Davie and McDougall met to converse upon various matters,while Edward and Margaret seemed ra- ther to like the seclusion of their own company. A strict watch was kept without to report the approach of any body of men, and the fore part. of the night passed of‘l'quietly. Indeed the hour of nine came, yet nothing to attract the attention of the watchers appeared. Soon after that hour, however, a body of mounted men were descried not far away; and one of the guards entering the build- ing informed the king ofthe approach of some twenty or thirty, or at least as near that number as he was able to ascertain. Every one in an in- stant was on the gut clue, but Darn- ley gave orders shat the utmost still- ness should be maintained, until it most desirable work,’ at length spoke the president, an evil-minded ano scm‘hlage. Nevertheless, they did not pause longâ€"and when half of Scottish Lord, as he arrose from his their number had entered the room, seat and addressed his two Score of followers, all of whom were seated in a large apartment ofgthe dillapi-’ dated mlll. ’ ‘ “’e have thus far kept our secret so close that I doubt not it is altogether unknown and unsus-‘ Darnley ; ‘ McDougall and the pea-- peeled beyond thesewprecincts l" ‘ we may vouch for the truth'of with them. that you“ bring 80. many that,’ put inMcAlpine, who ‘was one of the leading spirits, ‘ We haVe no traitors, nor have we given any one reason to suspect aught amiss !' ‘ And we have only now to, men: a few hours cautiously,’ continued the president. , ‘ But it only remains now,’ he added, ‘for me to briefly state once more what is to be done. In the -ï¬~.tst place, one half of our number here, and they are already selected, are to‘ immediately mount their steeds, and, having attended to the business of McAlpine, are then to proceed directly towards Edin- burgh.’ . The presidenLthcn proceeded to state where they should separate, where again meet, who should visit the-palace at Holyrood and seek an audience with Darnley; and, *fur- company you. or your villain band.’ ther, in what manner their royal victim should be drawn from the vicinity of his gttnrds. or, if possible beyond the borders of the city, and put to death. These items were given in detail, but we need not dwell more particularly upon them. The president continuedâ€"â€" ‘ The other half of our number, upon the departure of the others, will disperse, to meet again when a messenger shall have informed us of the consummation of the desirable whoever you are,’ said Dalkeith. ‘decd ; a messenger, at the same time being sent to Lord Bothwell, to ap. on, and cleave him to the chin, who prize him of what has happened.’ Afew more words and the meetâ€" ing was broken up. Each One had furnished his own steed, and when the twenty, including McAlpine and the publican, had nounted and start- ed on their route, the others hastily rode away to their respective abodcs impatiently, perhaps, iti some instan ces,-to await the news of the ï¬nal conclusion of their treacherous and treasonable undertaking. Swiftly onward rode the twenty, with Elliott and McAlpine; and, to be brief, in a few minutes they arriâ€" ved opposite the dWelling place of Edward Ainslie. ' Great, however. was their disappointment when they became aware of the house being desertid. , ‘ What is to be done 'l’ questioned Elliott. ‘Ainshe is not here. ’tis certain ; yet he must not escape us! He must be found! it will not do could be known who they were and what they meant. ‘ Let all be secreted, save the fa- ‘mily of Hugh and Edward, Davie, McDougall and myself,’ he said to Lumley, who immediately proceed- ed to place the men in different por- \tions ofthc building, and out ofightt ‘ We will remain here in the recep- tion room, until circumstances re- quire the presence ol all. If harm, as I feel sure is meant, I wish to have them taken in theact of using violence l’ Everything was arranged agree- able to the Wishes of Darnley ; and, soon after, the mounted detachment amounting to some twenty in ‘numo’ ber, halted in front of the mansion. They were, in truth. a portion of the conspirators, and they had read- ily yielded to the desires of Elliott an l,McAlpme, who were now with them,â€"_â€"it being their intention, when they had seized and secured ' the Lady Margaret. to immediately push on to Edinburgh, hoping to- reach there an hour after midnight. Before accompanying them into the court-yard of the mansion, let us enter the ruined tnillâ€"s-the conspi- rator’s place of rendezvousâ€"an hour earlier. At eight o’clock, agreeable to previous appointment, all of the conspirators, some? forty in number‘ . had assembled. Some of them were of noble birth ;.~ some belonged to the wealthy class of Scotland, who were without titles of nobility ; and a few were of the lower orders, like I the publican Elliott ; and all were ‘ of that discontented, cut-throat class who cared not for the welfare of their country, but who were always ready and eager to raise the stand- ard of insurrection, or to engage. in the work of treason. Elliott and McAlpine had already gained the consent of their followers to aid them _ in their plans, and the preparations for consummating their great object - were nearly ï¬nished. to leave him, like a viper to sting us by and bye 1’ ‘ Still we have not time to await his coming,’ said the leader, Lord Dalkeith. ‘ May he not, even now, be with the maiden at the mansion 'l’ sug- gested McAlpine; ‘you know he is a welcome Visitor there.’ ‘A merk to a bawbee, you are right l’ responded the inn keeper. " Let us push on !’ With the utterance of a few more sentences again the conspirators moved onward, and ï¬nally arrived in front of the Drummond mansion, as the reader has already seen. (CHAPTER XLâ€"DEFEAT oF’ THE PUBLICAN. ' ‘THERE appears to be no~ one stir- ring,’ said McAlpine to Elliott and Dalkeith, as they and their men bold- ly entered the yard, the gate leading into which having been purposely left unfastened ; ‘ we, no doubt, shall find the seizure of the maiden an easy matter.’ , ‘All the be‘tte’r,’ answered Lord Dalkeith, "for We must use dispatch.’ ‘ That is certain,’ spoke Elliott; .‘ push onward to the entrance ;‘ our numbers will, intimidate all that we may meet.’ Without more ado the conspiraâ€" tors crossed the courtyard, and soon arrived at a side door.- Knocking thereon, their summons was soon it. ‘We wish to. see your master, Hugh Drummond, and the Lady ’Margaret,’ said McAlpine ; and -,thereupon, without awaiting an an- swer, the whole detachment pushed boldly in, D’alkeith Elliott and Mc- jAlpine taking the lead. Upon en- tering the presence of Hugh Drum- mond, his family, Edward, Davie, McDougall: and Darnleyâ€"who still the leading conspirators were some- answered by a servant, who opened - the rest remaining in the entry, Elliott ejaculated : "lVIcDougall and peasant here, as well as Edward Ainslie? ‘ Even so,’ was the response of sant are herel What would you with you i†, ' ‘ it matters not to you. vile pca- sant,’ spoke Dalkeith ; ' our business is with Hugh Drummond and the Lady Margiret.’ ‘lndeed l’ said Darnley. ‘ And what may that business be asked Hugh. ‘ We have come to demand the Lady Margaret l’ said Elliott. ‘ For what i†. ‘ My friend, McAlpine, here,_long has sought her hand. She has been perverse, and would not listen IO’lllS .T suit. We now have come, with friends, to take her With' us. Ere morning’s dawn she is destined to be his wife.’ ' Dastardly miscreant! she never will be his wifeâ€"she never shall ac- ‘ You shall find l am resolved up- on it, and we have the force at hand to make good our assertion,’ wasglhc exclamation of McAlpine. ‘ Nevertheless, your force will not avail !’ spoke the disguised King. ‘ We are strong, and we will resist unto death. The Lady Margaret is as free as the wind that‘blows; and so, despite you all, she will continue to be.’ ‘ You speak boldly, sir peasant, ' Forward, men, and se ze the maid- dares resist !’ r ‘Hold!’ ejaculated Darnley. ‘You will rue the moment that you make a hostile movement.’ ‘ Who are you that speaks so wild- ly 'l’ demanded McAlpine. ‘ Your superior, traitorous miscre- ant !’ was the reply; ‘and I know you well. Not only that, but all your intended movements.’ ‘ Ha !’ exclaimed Dalkeith.’ ‘ You may well stait, nav, trem- ble and turn pale. You come upon an errand you never can accom- plish.’ ‘ ‘ You Speak in cnigmas,’ said the public-an, beginning to fear, he knew not what. . “I will speak plainer then,’ re- turned Darnley. ‘ You have come here, confident in numbers, to seize upon the Lady Margaret and hear her from her home. Having suc- ceeded, your next movementâ€"your next intention, is the assassination of the King of Scotland. Am I not right l’ i ' ‘Ha! how do you know this 'l’ asked Elliott. ‘ By Heaven, we have been be- trayed l’ spoke Dalkeith, turning pale. - ‘ Not so,’ said Drummond , ‘ we gained the knowledge by accident.’ ‘ How 9’ ‘ 'l)avie, herc,and myself, were not far from the big oak at an early hour to-night,’ said Darnley. Elliott and McAlpine exchanged hurried glances, while Dalkeith and the otherconspirators looked wonder- ingly at them. ' Who are you?’ a second time questioned McAlpine, earnestly re- garding the disguised monarch. 'The friend of honestyâ€"the in- veterate foo of villainyâ€"and the husband of Mary Stuart l’ ‘ The King of Scotland here .3" simultaneously exclaimed a dozen of enemies. I ‘Lord Darnley in the garb of a peasant l’ ejaculated the Inn-keeper. ‘ ’Tis even trueâ€"l recognize his features,’ asSerted another. ‘ Our cause betrayed,» and all our hopes dashed to the ground,’ trem- blingly spoke Lord Dalkeith, his cheeks white with a Craven fear.- "They are l’ declared the King; ‘ and such a cause should alWays fail. Surrender at once to your lawful sovereign,’ he added, to the conspi- rators, ' and all. save the ï¬rst origi- nators of this foul plot, shall receiVe a free pardon upon the spot.’ 'Stand ï¬rm, all of ye,’ shouted l l country’s king. Advance not l' The conspirators heeded not, but made a movement "Ito draw their sworls and advance, not even ex- cepting their craven leader, Dalkcllh eâ€"when Edward Ainslie, Drummond and the rest, raised their alreadynn- sheathed weapons, and Darnley once, more exclaimed. ‘ Back, on your lives, you craven cowards !’ Teen taking a step back.- ward, ‘ My lord of Lurnley, seize upon these hostile men li‘ltt: again. shouted. In an instant the large apartment was filled with the soldiers of the ’ king, and before._._apy effectual resis- tance could be made, the greater. number of conspirators Were seized, and ï¬rmly held as captives. Those in the entiy, endeaVoring to escape, were met by the soldiers, and forced to yield. Dalkeitl‘i,‘ McAlpine, and most of the others, submitted quietly but the publican struggle furiously with two ofthe soldiers, ï¬nally broke from their grasp, sprang toward the king, and essaycd to strike him to the heart with a hastily drawn dag- ger. He did not, however, succeed; the quick eye of Edward Ainslie caught the movement in time ; and, raising his weapon, the dagger of the publican was slilvered into pieces by striking on the well tempered blade. An instant more, and a score of willing soldiers were upon him, and he was forced to the floor and rendered powerless. Darnley thank- ed Edward for the timely movement, and warmly shOok him by the hand. A full confession of the movements of the conspirators, and of their fu- ture intentions, in a short time was in ade known by on of their number; and when all were securely bound, they were confined in a number of the upper rooms of the mansion, with a Strict guard over them, the king deciding that all should be escorted to Edinburgh early in the morning. Small detachments of the soldiers were then sent out, to capture as many of that portion of the Conspi-‘l rater-s who had darted from the more active body of their comrades, as could be found; and, also, a mes- senger was sent to these soldiets, who had gone out beyond the ruined mill, to notify them to return to the mansion. Before morning's dawn, so clear were the directions given, the greater number of the conspira- tors at large were captured, and brought into the presence of Darn- ley; not above three or four in alll making their escape. The next morning, at an early hour, the prisoners, escorted by Lumley’s detachn’ient, set out for Edinburgh. And, soon after, the king took his leave of Hugh Drumâ€" mond and his wife, and of Edward' and Margaret, McDougall and Davie accompanying him. , 'Before quitting the vicinity, thoi king stopped at the Inn of the ‘ Kltt, and the Claymore ;’ and there had an interview with the pretty Mary Elliott, who requested the privilege of going with Davie to the capital ; which request, after some demur, was granted. Both Davie and Mary then petitioned Darnley to act as‘ leniently as possible towards the publican, and he promised so to do. Before the hour ofnoon. they arrived at Holyrood, whether Lumley, with the soldiers and the captive conspiâ€"‘l raters had upwards of an hour pre-é ceded them. ' Darnley immediately sought the Queen, who was happy , indeed once more to see him, and listened attentively to his recital of his adventures. Before nightfall he visited the prisoners in their various dungeons, seeking, lastly, Dalkeith, McAlpine and Elliott, who were Conï¬ned together.†‘ Elliott,’ he said to the p*irbli‘can,l after some previous discourse with the three, ‘ you have Some powerful friends to intercede for you ;. and, although a most consumate and hard- ened villain, yet am I persuaded to be merciful. The Queen, your daughter, and Davie Lyle, all plead for your life. You shall escape a traitor’s doom, and to-morrow you will be set free, but it will be upon ,the condition that you give willing consent to the marriage of Davie Lyle with your daughterâ€"for she will not wed him without itâ€"â€"'and McAlpine, who believed thatatime~ that, farther, you leave Scottish ly word might save all. ° Our cause l l l ground within thirty hours; failing is not yet lest! he speaks false who to do which you shall most surely says so. upon the Kingâ€"strike your daggers Fear not ;’ advance at once , lose your head. The publican’s haughty spirit was to his heart, and then seize upon the already subdued, and he promised maiden and also Edward Ainslie! was: attiii'cd'in his peasant cos-tumewâ€" a'gOldel- Prize may yet await “'5 if we are true to ou-rselves.’ to act in accordance with the king’s sentence, at the same time express- ,ï¬nd' ‘domestic quarrels ’ next in guilty of a double crime. ‘ Not only have you. conspired against the Queen of Scotland’s consort, your lawful. sovereign, myself, but you have tried to bring to shame, to dis- honor,vthe fair and virtuous daugh- ter ofa noble gentleman; even more have sought to bring about the death of Edward Ainslie, her betrothed lover. You will receive a fair and impartial trial, but the proofâ€"ls clear, and the executioner’s axe and your occk,l doubt not, will come togeâ€"' titer.’ * McAlpine turned soernfully away with a, smile of bitter hate-upon his Ra‘wéon - Harmon, an extensive wheat-grower and sheep-breeder“ of" Wheatland, N. Y.,=Says : †“Formerly years we have kept two sheeep. to the acre of wheat land ; say for 150 acres, 300 sheep may kept, and", the regular rota» .tion of the Wheatend clover keptup on the lSO‘acib'snétU’oflwhich should be in wheat'each year, and 10 in corn. and. roots. be sown in March or April, six quarts to the acre, and as soon as the ground is dry in the spring,’ one bushel of plaster should be sown to lthe acre. Barley or oats should fol- features, and Darnleyturnedito 10w com and roots, andâ€sécded as Dalkeith. ‘_ For you, Lord Dalkeith,’ , he said ‘ there can he no hope,vysave in the mercy of. Heaven. You, a noble of the realmâ€"but a most traito'rous and degenerate chef-you are ore of the originators of this most foul and hel- lish plot. Your fate can only bethe gallows, or the headsman’s axe.’ _ After awhile longer spent with the three, exhorting them to appeal to the mercy of the "Great Divine,’ Darnley left, then. The next day Elliott was set free; and. within the speciï¬ed time; he bade ‘bonny Scotland ’ farewell, thereafter to so- journ in a fereign clime. McAlpine and Dalkeith, soon afterwards fell by the axe of the headsman ; while the most of the other Conspirators above. So we have ‘ 50 acres seeded with clover each year, 10 in corn and ‘rootswleaving 90 acres for pasturing and mewing. A team is to be kept for the workon the farm, ank three or four rows, for the use of the, family; and no other stock should be kept, “except begs, for the family use, and they should bewil- Vmited, for mutton is cheaper and more wholesome meat than porkâ€"â€" The above for the use of the family, is all the stock that should be kept on a whent~growing farm, except sheep ; and with the above amount, ofland, 300 sheep may be kept and well , cared for. They should be kept at the barn till the ï¬rst of May, when they should be tamed on to the ï¬elds which the corn and root either were condemned to exile, or to long imprisonment. Upon a bright and beautiful day, some months subsequently, occurred the double wedding ofEdward Ainsâ€" lie and Margaret Drummond, and of Davie Lyle and Mary Elliott, at Drummond mansion. Bountiful pro- vision was made for a time of joy and mirth, and Lord Henry Darnley and the beautiful Mary Queen of Scots, were amongthe distinguished weddingguests. ’l‘he’tlirilling events of the past Were alluded to in appro- priate terms, and when the wedding festivities were concluded, and the guests were about departing, the king, before leaving with Mary re- marked,â€" ‘ Friend Drummond, Inumber this among some of the mostj’oycus days of my existence, and I can truly say that within your hospitable manâ€" sion, whether as king or peasant,l have ever met the most cordial re- ception; and while I have made new and kind friends, I have made no enemies. I am accused by my foes sometimes by my well-wlshers, who know me not, ofmany heinous faults; but, whenever you have occasion to speak of mcâ€"-of my good or evil traitsâ€"you will not fail to judge with kindness the intentions ochnry Darnley.’ , When the farewells had been spo- ken, the king and queen, with their attendants, started for Edinburgh. History tells of Darnley’s untime- ly after fate, by the assassin blade of the miscreant Rizzio. and of the fu- ture marriage of the Queen of Scots with Lord Bothwell. Until we meet again, Reader, adieu. ’v-IW Morivus 0F SUICIDE:â€"-ln the year 1851 there were 3,598 suicides recorded iii Francc,to each of which the presumed motive was affixed.â€" Out of these,no less than 800 are set down to mental alienation ; and to" that number we should add '70 cases of monom’onia, 39 of cerebral fever. and 54 of idiocy-â€"all ranking under the general head of uncontrollable- nessâ€"whi‘ch will make a total of 963, or more than a fourth of the whole number“ of cases. if we now examine the remaining cases, we amount,- being no less than 3852â€"4" Next in importance to domestic quarrels, is the desire to escape from physical suffering; 'these amount to 313. Debt and embar- rassment rank next.v203. Want and fear of want, 17%. D'isgust of lifeâ€"‘â€"which may be properly called low spiritsâ€"stands high, l66; shame, and remorse very low, only 7. Thwarted love shows only 91 ; and jealousy 23. ’ Losses at play, 6;; loss of employment, 25. ' ' An lrish-m-an, writing from Dill-0' says it is the most illiga’nt place in the world. ‘ The ï¬rst three weeks] he says, “they are boarded gratis, and after that you are charged nothing at all. Come along, and bring the childer. A man’s reputation often depends upon the places where he falls asleep. If in a drinking saloon, he is thought a drunkard; if in a church, he is regarded as a model i-ng, his gratitude for his clemency, of piety. no tallow in the clever, and it is "bf it destroyed.†.barn. Crops are to occupy, and where the wheat is to re sown, remaining till the clever in the pasture is half grown; then give the sheep a chance at that,which will keep them till the clever commences heading out where the wheat and barley have been harvested. One great canse of failure in sheep hasbandry is the letting the sheep run on the pastures long after clover has done growing, and in the spring before it commences growing, when there is gnawed into the ground,- and much HINTS ON THE ,MANAGE- MENT OF SHEEP. Gen. Harmon, ofthisg count , in a communication to the Journalyof the .N'. Y. State flg. Society, gives the following hints in regard to the ma- nagement of sheepwvhich, coming as they do from a gentleman of close observation and large observation, will be read with interest :- “For winter management, most farmers fail, in giving their sheep too much run. Where they-are stabled, or kept in close sheds, and not suf- fered to run at large, from Novem- ber till May, one-fourth of the food can be saved, the flock kept in bet- ter c0ndition,giving one-fourth more wool, and making twice the amount of the most valuable manure made on the farm. From ï¬fty to one hundred are to be kept in a flock.â€" Shecp of about the same weight should be kept together ; where lambs or yearlings are suffered to run with full-grown sheep they will not do as well. Lambs should be taken from the ewes about the sum of August, if diOpped in the month of May, and a few yearlings put with them, and they will be more easily controlled, and by the 20th of September they should be fed me- derately with oats or bran and a little salt every day, so that by the time they come to the barn they are tame and in good condition for win- tering. The ï¬rst clover in the bar- . Iey ï¬elds would be a favorable ï¬eld for lambs. Wethers, three pas‘t,and ,ewes that begin to lose their teeth, “should be put in one yard, and grained through the winter, and then they will be'ï¬t for the butcher, ‘and will pay for the food they have consumed ; and must be disposed of, so as to giveplnce for the increase. No sheep should be sold from the farm till' they have come to full maturity. The selling of lambs to the butchers, is ruinous to the flock éor letting butchers go if? and take the best of the flock. Old sheep, as well as lambs, should have some roots or grain every day while at the Sheep will pay much better for the grain they eat titan the man you sell to will. No animal kept on the farm pays better than the sheepâ€"for their rapid increase, with their fleece and meat, give a better return for what they consume than any stock kept on a grain farm.†An old farmer in Ohio was anxious to have his minister dismissed, and was asked thereason. “l’ve heart-l say,†was_the reply, “that a change of pastors makes fat calves, and I’m for. a change.†Clover seed should" must peculiar and fatal traps of the kind is called the Malice Scrub, which consists of a dense wood of a dwarfuspecies of gum-tree. This tree,'not more than a dozen feet in height, stretches in horizontal and ivith its congeners, a dose, compact mass. So close is it that you may travelfor scores of miles through it, and see no trace of any vegetation but itself and a species of twining plantâ€, Which ruds’lllke cords amongst it, and, as it were, knits iand tics up lnto‘an impenetiable mass. Where vegetation does prevail, it is gette- rally the. sharp and inhospitable needle-grassâ€"a grass, the blades of which are like wires, and every one keen and sharp as a» needle. This grass affords little or no nourishment to the horse ofthc traveler ; but, where he is cbliged to traverse it. wounds and stings his legs fearfully. Woe, therefore, to the wanderer who finds himself involved in the mazes of the fearful Malice Scrub. He may nominally make his way to some distance, but the impenetrable thickets comp lhim to turn hither and thither, and soon he is Comple- tely bewildered, and eventually brought to a dead stand, not know- ing howto advance or retreat. Hence the skeletons of many a lost traveler lie bleaching in the wastes of Malice Scrub. Cancunâ€"ll is a wellâ€"known fact that nearly all the great men, who in the past or present age have come to ï¬ll positions of trust and import- ance, were noted for their love of truth. They were incapable of do. cention, or even prevarication. Who is not familiar with the story of VVashington’s youth, when his hat-' chet destroyed a vamablc tree. A falsehoedzthen might have changed the entire current of his life. he nobly avowed the deed, and was con'imended in such terms for his candor, as most from that time forth have wedded him to truth. On the . other hand, how contemptible does a youth become who seruples not to lie. t was the custom among the Romans to restore the sons of the sovereigns they subdued to their fa: thers’ thrones, when found worthy to occupy them. So Trajan had determined to put a son of Deee'caa lus, King of the Dacians, in his fa- tlier’s stead, making him, of course, his vassal, according to the usage of the age. But, being made aware, one afternoon. that the boy had bro= ken into garden after school hours, he teasingly inquired where he had been ‘allt/Le afternoon.’ The answer was, ‘I have been in school.’ No‘ persuasion could induce Trajan to carry out his original purpose toward the youth. His inexorable answer, to Dacians and Romans alike, who intercedcd was that ‘one who so early began to prevaricate, could- never deserve a crown i’ How in contrast with the forego- ing is the other incident we have in view. it is told of the Duke of Ossuna, who, having got leave of the King of Spain to release some galley slaves, went on board the galley for that purpose. On his ask- ing them, by turns, for'wliat offence they had been condemned to the oars they all assigned some such cause as malice, bribery of the judge, &e., except one sturdy and openâ€"faced fellow, who promptly owned thathe ‘ wanted money, was tempted to rob‘ to keep himsflf from starving, but was fairly tried, and justly condemn- ed.’ Then, you rogue,’ exclaimed†the Duke, giving him. a tap or two with his stick, ‘get you out of the company of these honest men 1’ He‘ was rewarded for his frankness with’ his liberty, while his fellow-slaves were kept tugging at the ears!1 Youths! remember that lesson! A tipler, who did not Wish to be re-‘ garded as one, was in the habit, whenever he called at his-inn, to make an ‘ exeuse for his glass.’ At length, baring exhaust. ed all the ordinary apologies for tliir‘sti‘w ness, he one day said: a ‘ He really thought he must have a drop; he was going to have salt ï¬sh for dinner) A fellow on the raceâ€"course was stag- gering about Willi more liquor than he could carry. “Hallo! what’s the matter now 1’ said a chap whom the inchriated in- dividual had just run against. “ Whyâ€"â€" hieâ€"why, the fact is, a lot of my friends have been betting liquor on the race‘to-n day, and they have got me to hold thq stakes.†’ rigid branches round it so as to form, , of which terminates with a point ‘ But ‘